Of Magic And Madness
by paraboia
Summary: Izaya Orihara decides the magical community of London is interesting enough for him. Madness ensues.
1. Chapter 1

**So, another story, and I deleted New World, New Life. NWNL might make a comeback if I ever get the motivation to rewrite it, but yeah. Anyway, Harry Potter/Durarara! crossover! I've wanted to do this for a while, and this chapter was sitting unfinished on my laptop. I don't have much planned for this in the way of plot, and it's not that good, so I'm sorry for any inconsistencies and mistakes. This takes place during Prisoner of Azkaban for HP and somewhere between the Saika arc and the Yellow Scarves arc of DRRR, and obviously, I screwed HP canon and changed it so it's set later on in time, and no one has good technology from the 21st century in the 90s.**

 **Also, the title isn't permanent, but it's all I could think of that wasn't shit.**

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Izaya Orihara was an odd man, even in his current surroundings—perhaps more so. Yes, the different strangeness made it even more apparent that he was not a normal man, in any sense of the word. Perhaps it was how even though he was clearly not in his depth, he still appeared, on all accounts, to be perfectly at home. Maybe it was how he didn't even try to mask just how different he was to them.

The disgusted whispers coming some of the people in the pub didn't even faze him.

It was probably because, even out of his depth, humankind was Izaya Orihara's speciality. He was only trying to find out if this … community was worth screwing seven times over, whether or not it would be interesting enough to put off Ikebukuro, and for something that apparently began in a pub with a name as bad as the Leaky Cauldron.

Then again, Izaya thought, you should never judge a book by it's cover. If someone with a name that sounded like an air conditioning brand could stir that much up, then he could only guess how interesting this so-called magical community would be. He could learn about Celty's head in a magical place, too, most likely. Oh yes, he realised, this will be so, so interesting.

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"Ah, so you're out looking for a relative?" Tom, the barkeep, queried.

"Yes," Izaya nodded. "I came over from Japan to track them down. So, you'll get me into the Alley, won't you?"

Tom nodded, not questioning the threatening tone of Izaya's voice.

Maybe if Tom had understood that he was essentially letting havoc loose in his society, he would have been more apprehensive.

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Izaya stood outside of Ollivander's, trying to contain his anger.

But those words stuck in his head. "Your magic doesn't have a strong enough reaction to work with a wand."

So Izaya stood outside of Ollivander's until a passing wizard bumped into his side. On purpose.

And then Izaya realised that not being in this society, but still taking part was the best way to understand it. No one realises the truth of a community better than an outsider.

With that in mind, he headed off to the ice cream parlour near him, with money, from the wizard stupid enough to knock into Izaya Orihara on purpose, jangling in his pocket.

In Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Izaya saw a strange wizard. A strange wizard who, Izaya noticed, also saw Izaya. The man was the most eccentric in the shop by a long stretch. He had a beard tucked into his belt, brightly flashing robes with little bunnies dancing around the hem and a large witch's hat that clashed with the entire outfit. At the same time, the old wizard also carried himself with an air of importance unseen in anyone who could be counted as a simple pawn. When this wizard walked over to Izaya's table, the brunette man smirked happily to himself.

"Hello, I haven't seen you before. I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore." he said in a jovial tone.

"Izaya Orihara." the informant smirked. "I'm new around here."

"Ah. I hope you've found your stay pleasant."

"The people here have a … dislike of my kind. Muggles, I believe you call us." Izaya's tone turned unpleasant, and his slightly different smirk showed exactly how he thought of the ideas these wizards had formed.

Dumbledore seemed oddly put off by this idea. It looked genuine. Izaya was surprised by how someone so clearly old had more modern ideas than the younger generations. "I apologise for the ignorant people's behaviour. They don't understand how a society can survive without magic and not be full of pigs rolling around in the dirt … If I may ask, Izaya, how did you come across our community?"

"I have a magical step-brother. We're not what you call close," Izaya said uninterestedly, "but I know of his magic."

That was, of course a lie. Izaya found out about magic by searching for the odd and unnatural in London. It was kind of hard to not notice entire groups of people disappearing into a closed shop when you were looking for the unusual.

"I see. What do you know of the magical community?"

"Not much more than the fact they are prejudiced and dislike me. Though I would like to find out more. Learning about new things is never bad."

"Yes, I quite agree with you on that one."

"I must ask you, Albus," Izaya leaned in closer and Dumbledore did the same, "do you know anywhere that would have a job for a muggle? I've been thinking of staying in this scene for a while longer; it's a nice change from Tokyo—fresh air, you know?"

Dumbledore was quiet for a very long moment, before he sighed. "There is one thing that might be possible …"

Izaya hid his smirk behind his serious mask as Dumbledore regarded him with trepidation.

"I have a space for a teacher at Hogwarts, and it's a position you could fill. You will need to show me your qualifications first, as well as pass the interview, but there isn't much in the name of competition, to tell the truth …"

Izaya nodded and smiled at Dumbledore. "And what is the job?"

"Our last Muggle Studies professor has quit their job—they felt threatened to do so. I'm afraid I couldn't keep her, but I would ensure that no one would discriminate against you, and if they did, there would be severe consequences."

Izaya smiled. "I would like to apply to be your Muggle Studies, then Albus."

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"I'm almost certain there will be useful things about Dullahan here … Yes … Okay … Goodbye, Shingen-san."

Izaya smirked as he threw the phone down, small, disturbing giggles escaping his throat. His game had got so much more interesting, with so many different ways for him to make it turn out!

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The next time Izaya saw Dumbledore he was being congratulated on his new position, although from what Izaya could tell, as Dumbledore had said, there was practically no competition, especially with his advantage of actually being a muggle.

"So, Izaya," Dumbledore said. "Because you're not so familiar with Hogwarts and magic, and there isn't much longer until term starts, I can arrange for you to go in a little earlier than other teachers normally would, if you'd like."

Izaya smiled. "That sounds excellent."

Things were going well. For Izaya, that is.

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Severus Snape did not like Izaya Orihara.

It was different to how he did not like other teachers. With other teachers, it was a matter of them being annoying, and distrusting of him. In Lupin's case, it was because of Lupin's old friendship with James Potter and Sirius Black.

In Izaya Orihara's case, it was because the man reeked of ulterior motives, betrayal, and backstabbing.

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The first time Snape met Izaya, he was in the library. He needed some hard to obtain potion books, and there Izaya was, in the restricted section, looking at some very questionable books.

"Who are you?" Snape had sneered.

Izaya just smirked annoyingly at him. "Izaya Orihara. And you are?"

His response had tickled a nerve, but Snape ignored that and his question. "The new Muggle Studies professor?"

"Yes." Izaya said. "Who are you?"

"Severus Snape, the Potions Master."

Snape left the room after that. Izaya had left a bad taste in his mouth.

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He did not trust Izaya Orihara at all. He could tell that Dumbledore had made a very bad choice in employing him.

"This is Izaya Orihara," Dumbledore said. "He will be teaching Muggle Studies. He is also a muggle himself, so I believe he can provide a unique perspective on muggle life."

Some conflicted mutters broke out at the last sentence, because, after all, a muggle teaching at Hogwarts was unheard of. Without a doubt, Hogwarts—and Dumbledore—would get a lot of flak, especially from the old and powerful pureblood families.

"Albus, are you sure a muggle can be … safe here?" McGonagall said, just above a whisper.

Izaya's eyes darted in her direction. From what he could tell, she was less powerful than only Dumbledore.

"Minerva, was it?" Izaya butted in. "I know danger, and I also know how to help myself. I'm sure as long as we're all on the same page, we'll all be fine."

Of course, Izaya didn't want everyone on the same page. No, he wanted to be at the top of the ladder, and to pick and choose who rose where, and when someone would fall to the bottom. He wanted to see just how these wizards in their archaic society would react when their entire world fell from below the, and their past became their God, ruling their every decision. He couldn't wait …

McGonagall frowned at Izaya, carefully measuring his face as he schooled his expression flat.

"I'm not entirely sure that will work." she said.

Izaya's lips quirked down, "I come from a very … dangerous part of Japan. I'm used to manoeuvring around loose triggers. Even the muggle world has it's dangers."

The teachers around Izaya considered that and Izaya could tell that he had his battle won. Everyone other than Snape looked reassured, and Snape just looked angry at Izaya's very presence. But, he could play that off as Snape being a racist Slytherin, and no one would have a hard time believing it. Ah, institutionalised hatred was so easy to manipulate.

"Even so, Orihara," Snape began, and Izaya mentally sighed. "That doesn't mean you can defend yourself, nor that you can teach well." His lips curled up in a sneer as he silently challenged Izaya to defend himself.

Izaya's response was dry. "I'm sure you'd be hard-pressed to find someone who understand muggles better than an actual muggle. That aside, my teaching will be up to date, seeing as I come from one of the most technologically advanced places in the world."

He was rewarded with a respected silence from the other teachers, and a glare from Snape.

Dumbledore coughed. "Anyway, I hope you will all be accommodating to Mr Orihara, and will answer any questions he has concerning magic.

The teachers nodded, and Izaya thanked them before he left. "For research." he had said.

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 _The dullahan, or Gan Ceann, is an unseelie faerie, originally coming from Ireland. A dullahan is often referred to as a headless rider in Muggle folklore, because it carries it's disembodied head in its arm. Dullahan have their own headless horses, which have been rumoured to be able to change form, that pull the dullahan's carriage._ _Dullahan are feared in both Muggle and magical communities because they bring death with them wherever they go. Unlike the banshee (bean-sidhe), who shrieks before someone dies, the dullahan actually kills people, and can only be tricked by the smartest type of wizard._

 _The dullahan can see with it's head and has unnaturally good eyesight, able to see for miles and in every direction, and when it sees someone watching it, it has been said to gouge out their eyes with its whip made from a human spine, or throw a bucket of blood on them. It is unsure how the dullahan can see when its head is not attached to its body, but the most popular theory is that it has an invisible head on it's neck, and the one it holds is a fake to trick those wanting to kill it. No one can tell if this is true or not, however, as no one has actually managed to find a dullahan to test this theory on, and not many experts believe it._

 _Every time a dullahan has been sighted, it has killed someone. They travel to their victims house, and the gates will open, despite the lock and charms holding them closed, then the dullahan will call out their name with an unearthly roar, and kill their victim._

 _Dullahans can only speak once in their journey, to call out the victims name._ _The only thing that has been confirmed to stop a dullahan is gold. If one was being chased by a dullahan, the best thing to do would be throw gold in it's path and leave._

 _It has been said that dullahan serve directly under a god of death, or similar deity._

 _There have been no reported dullahan sightings in over 100 years._

Izaya sighed quietly, and massaged his temples. So far, his research had left him with more questions than answers. Things like if dullahan saw with their heads, then how the hell could Celty see?

He stirred his coffee, examining the book, and jotting down a note—in Japanese so no one could read it without some effort—in an atempt to understand.

It was so infuriating. All of the potential information waiting for him, and he himself seemed to know more than the magical community.

Well, Izaya thought, it was proof he was better than even wizards and witches. Better than the fantastical, the unimaginable, and the supernatural. He, Izaya Orihara, was truly a God among humans, able to outsmart magical beings with his logic and wit.

He began with his terrible, terrible giggles as he threw his head back in mirth.

Yes, he was in control. He would find out more about dullahan with all of these resources and ensure his ascent to Valhalla.

All he had to do was play his cards right and he would be better than everyone—Dumbledore, McGonagall, Shizuo, the Sonohara girl, Celty, even the Awakasu Association. Once he was done with the magical community, everyone here would be fucked, too.

"Orihara."

At once, Izaya stopped with his laughter, turning around to face the intruder—Snape.

"Yes?" Izaya smirked, masking all the bad intentions previously held in his eyes.

Snape frowned and Izaya could feel pressure in his head, his previous headache returning, and he focussed harder on his poker face.

"What are you doing here?" Snape asked.

Izaya looked pointedly at his book and notes. "I was trying to study something."

"You know that's not what I meant."

"Oh?" Izaya raised an eyebrow. "And what does that tell me about you? Assuming an innocent muggle studies professor has some ulterior motive for teaching. Oh, how you wound me, Severus! I just want to know more about the magical world."

Snape did not look at all impressed. Izaya took that as a win.

"Tell me your real purpose here!" Snape demanded, his eyes flashing with hatred.

Izaya could tell he'd really angered his fellow professor, and mentally noted this, and his other potential anger triggers. "I do need a job if I want to live comfortably. Is that not enough of a reason to teach?"

Apparently, that was something Snape couldn't argue with, and so the hook-nosed professor stormed out of the library, his cape sweeping behind him.

Honestly, if Izaya didn't love all humans, he'd probably pity the man. Clearly, he'd had some things go delightfully wrong in his past.

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 **That's it for chapter one, kids. How was it? Did I ruin Izaya, or anyone else?**

 **So, big question is, was the bit about dullahan good or nah? I wrote it myself, and tried mixing some not very accurate DRRR stuff, and the stuff on the net, bc the magical doesn't have much on dullahan in this headcanon. I feel like the big bit on dullahan is kinda shit.**

 **Anyway, I have no idea what's going on with this, but I hope I get better.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Another chapter at last. Thank you _very much_ to all the people who reviewed, favourited and followed the story. I'm honoured that you all took the time to do that for me. I'm not too pleased with some parts of this, but you all deserved a new chapter.**

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"Welcome!" said Dumbledore as students fidgeted on the benches. It was the welcoming feast now, and Dumbledore was going to introduce Izaya, and the man Izaya inferred was Remus Lupin (a ridiculously ironic name, but Izaya figured that it wouldn't be enough of a tip-off to the students that they would figure his secret).

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and one is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast …"

Dumbledore cleared his throat jarringly. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

In the long pause Dumbledore gave to let his message sink in, Izaya observed the students, paying particularly close attention to the duo who had arrived late, and their red-headed friend. He wondered briefly if these three would be good to manipulate, before smirking at a pupil who was staring at him.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," Dumbledore continued, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave the school without permission. Dementors are not fooled by tricks or disguises—or even Invisibility cloaks."

Izaya noticed that as he mentioned Invisibility Cloaks, he glanced over to the trio Izaya had noticed. Clearly, those three were involved in something big, and they knew it themselves, as the boys exchanged eye contact at Dumbledore's mention.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor," Dumbledore cast a stare around the room, "to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and the new Head Boy and Girl, that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

Izaya didn't miss the proud red-headed boy at the Gryffindor table puffing out his chest.

"On a happier note," the headmaster continued, "I am pleased to welcome three new teachers to our ranks this year.

"Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

Snape glared at the man, while a few students clapped. Apparently, the bat of the dungeons (a nickname Izaya would use around the man for sure) was jealous of the werewolf for having that position. How amusing.

"As to our second appointment," said Dumbledore, "well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

The applause for the massive man was a lot louder than for Lupin, and Izaya noticed how enthusiastically his trio were clapping.

"Lastly," Dumbledore said, "our Muggle Studies professor, Charity Burbage, has sadly left for personal reasons, but I can gladly inform you that we have Professor Orihara to take her place."

Izaya smirked at all of the students, and got a fair few claps from a lot of the girls, and more than one jealous glare from a few boys.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore finished. "Let the feast begin!"

And with that Izaya dug in to his dinner, making some polite conversation with his fellow teachers.

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Izaya smirked to himself as he waited for his third year class to arrive. It was small, with only a few students signed up.

The first girl to walk into the classroom was the bushy haired girl who had arrived late yesterday—Hermione Granger. McGonagall had mentioned something about her being a prodigy, and using a time-turner to get to all of the elective classes. It seemed strange, but very telling of her nature that she, a muggleborn, would sign up to learn about something that she lived herself.

Young, eager-eyed, and itching for attention for being a good student. It would be easy to have her wrapped around his finger.

"Hello," Izaya said to her. "You're Hermione Granger, aren't you? I've been told a lot of good things about you …"

She blushed and nodded. "Thank you, Professor Orihara."

"Please, please, call me Izaya," he laughed. "I wouldn't like my students to not feel fully comfortable around me."

Hermione nodded as a Ravenclaw girl, Sue Li, walked in. She was a half-blood of Chinese descent, with grades above average, but not prodigious in the way Hermione's were.

Izaya put his feet on his desk and sat waiting for the rest of the students. They came in fairly quickly after Sue Li, Sally-Anne Perks—Hufflepuff, average grades—then Roger Malone, a Ravenclaw with good grades. Finally, Lisa Turpin, another Ravenclaw with above-average grades walked in just before the bell for first period began.

"Hello, class," Izaya began, "I'm your Muggle Studies teacher, Izaya Orihara. Please call me Izaya: I don't need pointless formalities. I am a muggle, so I can assure you that I can answer almost anything you can think of concerning muggles. I know who everyone here is, but why don't you all stand up and say your name, house, and a fact about yourself. Think of it as a way to get to know each other."

Izaya smirked as Hermione stood up to speak first. The point of his exercise was to get an impression of his students, and so far Hermione had shown some Gryffindor bullheadedness by going first.

"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, I'm a Gryffindor, and I love books."

Roger Malone stood next. "Roger Malone, Ravenclaw. I like a lovely lady." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Izaya thought it likely he had chosen this class because of the 'lovely ladies' that were apparently more likely to like this class. It was amusing how people could make a decision based off of something so shallow. Pathetic, really.

After that, it was Sue Li who stood, her posture aggressive. She smirked directly at Roger as she spoke.

"Sue Li, also Ravenclaw. And I, _also_ , like a lovely lady. One I can date."

Lisa Turpin tittered at that one, and leaned over to give Sue a high-five.

Now _that_ was something that intrigued Izaya. Her anger, her attack, the expression she made as she saw her target's face fall. It was so, so, so, so, so _interesting_.

The last of the introductions were standard, with Sally-Anne muttering at the ground and stumbling over her words, and Lisa stating that she likes seating.

Izaya smirked over the class and jotted some things down in his notebook as Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Hermione?" Izaya asked disinterestedly. He didn't suppose she had much to add at that moment, and his interest had changed from her to Sue Li.

"Well, professor, we've all said something about ourselves, so isn't it fair if you told us something about yourself."

The way she said it was definitely a statement, rather than a question, and reminded Izaya exactly why he should let his interest be centred on more than one person.

He started to chuckle to himself.

"Of course, ahahaha … hmm, before I came to Hogwarts I lived in Shinjuku, Tokyo. I do miss my apartment …"

Izaya stood up suddenly. "Well~" he said, "what do you children know about muggles? I'll accept fact, propaganda, _and_ observations! Write it down on some paper—I have muggle supplies for atmosphere—you can find it on the shelves, as well as muggle writing utensils. Once you're finished, talk amongst each other! If you grew up in a muggle home, and went to muggle school, etcetera, etcetera, draw or something like that! And if you take this as a skive class," Izaya's voice darkened, "I will know."

Some people, especially Roger, muttered about having to do so much work, but everyone ended up writing, or drawing in Hermione's case, silently for fifteen minutes, before they started to mingle.

After it got to the point where no one could be unfinished, Hermione was still drawing, Lisa and Sue were giggling together, and Roger was sitting on the desk of a very uncomfortable looking Sally-Anne. It was amusing to watch.

It was about five minutes until the break-time bell, and Izaya called out to the small class. "Okay guys! Hand in your work and pack up~ Hermione you don't have to hand anything over, but I don't mind having drawings~"

Frankly, his behaviour made him seem like an easy teacher to cross, and the way he teased his students was far too familiar, but none of his pupils could say they particularly disliked him yet. On the contrary, other than his one threat to skivers, he seemed like a pleasant person, if a bit childish.

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Izaya's post-break class was a fifth year double period. And that, in Izaya's opinion was good. Fifteen year olds were great for manipulating, full of romantic woes and other troubles that come with puberty. All of those hormones flying around made it perfect to push the right buttons that could make someone snap, or succeed. And it was up to Izaya which one of those it would be.

His class contained Fred and George Weasley, whom he had been warned about by more than one teacher, Lee Jordan, who apparently came with the Weasley twins in some sort of evil Gryffindor trio, Patricia Stimpson, who took Ravenclaw studying to extreme extremes, Cedric Diggory, the Prince Charming of fifth year, and Alicia Spinnet, a chaser for Gryffindor.

This class seemed a lot more relaxed than his previous, most likely because his subject was viewed as an easy one, and in their experience it had been. Izaya planned to change that. After all, class was no fun without struggle.

Other than the Weasley twins, Izaya's fifth year class were all on time. The class was more relaxed than his second years, most likely because they thought they knew what to expect. This atmosphere, however, made it exceedingly easy for Izaya to tell that the infamous Weasley twins were at it again. Lee Jordan's excited grin, filled past the brim with anticipation, which he was trying to hide terribly, was clear from miles away.

Well, really he was already on the lookout, after finding wet-start fireworks stuck to the underside of a desk. They were easy enough to pull off—no complicated magic was behind the sticking—and Izaya could easily guess that Lee was already in class so he wouldn't suspect the trio, while Fred and George were waiting in the corridor so they could get the fireworks wet somehow, before going into class after it was over and they couldn't be blamed. It was a smart plan, and if Izaya was someone else, he probably would have fell for it.

With him being himself, Fred, George, and Lee had only put themselves under the unfortunate spotlight that was Izaya's interest. He had already forgot about how interested he was in the local werewolf with these trouble students.

When he had waited an appropriately long time (six minutes exactly after the bell), Izaya sprung to his feet.

"Well, it looks like Misters Weasley aren't away to come in for a while, so lets jump right to it!" he proclaimed. "I'm Izaya Orihara, your muggle Muggle Studies teacher~ It's nice to meet you all!"

And the class looked surprised at how energetic he was, and the fact he was a muggle, but muttered vague hellos back.

Izaya bounced on the balls of his feet and smiled at the staring faces. "By the way, just call me Izaya, I'm too young to be called professor! Ahahahaha! So, let's play a game of questions and answers to get to know each other~ You can ask me anything at all, but I can refuse to answer! Now, get in a circle and we'll go round!"

At this, his class groaned. It was too much effort on the first Monday of school. The raven haired teacher understood this, and laughed at their misery aloud.

Once they were all arranged correctly, Izaya pointed at Alicia. "Alicia, begin!" he exclaimed.

She blushed at the sudden attention for a moment before murmuring her question. "Um, you said you're too young to be called professor, so how old are you?"

Izaya laughed. "Hmm … let's just say I'm forever twenty one!"

Everyone gaped their jaws at his response. They wondered if he was even taking them seriously at all, with an answer like that, before Patricia asked her question.

"How come you're teaching at a magic school if you're a muggle, Profe—" she cleared her throat, "Izaya?"

"Well," he said, after perhaps a tad too long thinking time, "Professor Dumbledore offered me the job, and I'm better qualified than anyone else."

And now the class had forgot that Patricia had asked about him being a muggle, because they were too busy thinking about how _Dumbledore_ had offered _him_ a job.

It was at this point that Fred and George Weasley came in, looking very disappointed at the lack of colourful fireworks lighting the classroom. They were muttering to each other, but it was too quiet for Izaya to hear.

"Well _hello_ , Misters Fred and George," Izaya exclaimed, paying extra attention to which twin reacted to which name, "I am your teacher—call me Izaya, by the way, _not_ sir or professor, or any of that malarkey."

He was _very_ excited about Fred and George. He would certainly enjoy playing with them, and he had yet to decide what direction things would go in for people.

Fred and George looked pretty confused at the lack of punishment, but went with it, not-so-subtly high-fiving each other.

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As the bell for lunch rang, the fifth years started packing their bags.

"Fred, George, you wait here for a moment."

They grimaced at each other, before heading towards Izaya's desk. "Yes, Professor." they said in unison.

Izaya waited until the rest of the class left, Lee Jordan needing some non-verbal encouragement to leave his friends.

"First off …" he said, "don't call me professor."

The twins nodded at that, while Izaya reached for something in his desk.

"Second," Izaya revelled in Fred and George's reactions as he placed the items out in the open, "I believe we have something to discuss, Misters Weasley."

George gulped as Fred opened his mouth, obviously planning on bullshitting their way out of trouble. Izaya lifted his finger to silence him before he began.

"No excuses." the teacher said.

The twins looked dismayed, but curious. So far, none of their teachers had cottoned on that quickly. Even McGonagall hadn't realised their tricks that fast. But, at the same time as it was worrying, so far Izaya had been nothing but non-threatening. He seemed cool enough, for a teacher, and despite being a tiny bit strict, he was pretty lax when everyone behaved.

"Now, normally I would punish something like this, but … it was a great idea, and I like you two. Besides, nothing even happened. If you couldn't even pull it off, I'll leave the detention out. Your punishment can be bitter defeat."

At this, Fred and George looked amazed. "Thank you-"

"so much."

"Hey, I don't think someone facing all these bad, losing feelings should be so happy." Izaya winked at them.

And he had officially won over the Weasley twins. And by extension Lee Jordan, and probably a lot of other students.

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 **So, how was that?**

 **The Hogwarts schedule I made goes like this, which is very similar to what I have:**

 **Period 1: 9 am to 9:45 am  
Period 2: 9:45 am to 10:30 am  
Break: 10:30 am to 11 am  
Period 3: 11 am to 11:45 am  
Period 4: 11:45 am to 12:30 pm  
Lunch: 12:30 pm to 1:30 pm  
Period 5: 1:30 pm to 2:15 pm  
Period 6: 2:15 pm to 3 pm**

 **It ends pretty early, but they don't have form class in Hogwarts, so that's half an hour out the schedule, but other than that it pretty much matches the average Scottish high school.**

 **Anyway, if it wasn't clear, then the fifth years had a double period.**

 **So, yeah, Izaya's a dick, but when isn't he. I did my best to keep him in character, what with all those mood swings. I think he's mainly gonna manipulate Hermione and Fred and George. If you think Fred and George would be too smart for that shit; remember Ludo Bagman? Yeah, he tricked them, without being half as clever as (in my opinion) Izaya is.**

 **Also, I'm making a playlist for this. Once it's done I'll put it on my bio.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, sorry it's been so long since the last update. I hope this is good enough to make up for the time it's taken, though in my defence, there has been a lot that's gone on recently.**

 **Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed this, it really means a lot! I'll always try to respond to reviews over PMs, but I can take sudden breaks from here that last months so I'm not very good at replying quickly. If you want to talk feel free to ask for my kik.**

 **To the guest who asked about Izaya's parkour, you'll see how word gets out in this chapter, however he probably won't talk about dodging vending machines and the like as he wants to keep his lifestyle a secret.**

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After the first day of school was officially over, the halls were abuzz with talk of the new teachers. Rumours were exchanged between friends, and most of them involved one person: Izaya Orihara, the Muggle Studies teacher.

"I heard that he bribed his way in—"

"—Dumbledore hired him as a spy for his secret organisation—"

"—and that's how he infiltrated the Ministry of Magic."

Harry was confused by these rumours, to say the least. He understood that, Hogwarts being Hogwarts, the students liked to exaggerate, but what could be so interesting about a Muggle Studies teacher of all people? And especially so if it was true that he was an actual muggle. Honestly, Harry wasn't too sure on exactly _why_ Dumbledore would want to hire a muggle; he would most likely get harassed by his own students. The more he thought about it, the less sense it made.

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"What was that oaf thinking, letting muggle scum into our school?" were the words that the Gryffindor students heard from one Draco Malfoy in the Great Hall during breakfast. Naturally, because the Gryffindors wanted to fight Slytherins more than the offensive thoughts behind that sentence, people jumped at the chance to argue with Draco.

"Now, now—" began one Weasley twin.

"Settle down, little Malfoy—" the other continued.

They smirked at one another and spoke in unison. "After all, that hair is a bigger mistake than anything Dumbledore could do."

And Izaya overheard all of this from his vantage point at the teacher's table. From the Gryffindors jeers, he could tell that everything was going to plan. The Gryffindors would be on his side just to antagonise the Slytherins.

With a stern glare from Professor McGonagall, the students calmed down.

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Izaya's first class that day was the fifth years. He noticed immediately that the Gryffindors were looking at him with more respect than the previous lesson and smirked. It was exactly as he had predicted. Almost boring, but he was sure that the Weasleys would bring him more entertainment. They were obviously loose canons around Hogwarts.

"Hello class~" he trilled once everyone had come in—the twins on time today and no pranks to be found, "today you're going to begin learning everything they never taught you before! Now, who understands how electricity works?"

When his only answer was blank faces, Izaya pouted. "Don't be that way guys~ If none you know the answer to that, then does anyone know anything about electricity?"

Patricia Stimpson raised her hand. "Um, well, lightning is electric I think..."

Izaya nodded. "You're right! Lightning is the electrostatic discharge from an electric storm between different clouds or clouds and the ground. What you see is called plasma. Plasma is the fourth, less heard of, fundamental state of matter, the other three being solid, liquid, and gas."

The entire class looked stumped at this.

"Is this not familiar~?" Izaya asked, already knowing the answer.

When no one responded, he sighed theatrically. "Well, we need to fix this! To understand muggles and muggle technology like phones and televisions you have to understand the science behind it."

Fred and George looked up with recognition showing in their eyes, no doubt from the father he had heard was obsessive over anything non magical.

The rest of the period was spent explaining the different ways muggles converted energy into different kinds of energy. Izaya's pupils had ended up enjoying the lesson, much to their own surprise, and by the end they all had a basic understanding of how electricity powered things. Patricia Stimpson looked particularly disappointed when the bell rang.

"All right everyone," Izaya called as his students stood up, "homework is at least three paragraphs on the function of electricity in muggle society! Now leave!"

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Izaya's next two periods and break were spent in the library, traipsing through book, after book, after book on magical creatures. Despite the fact that he was flipping through three separate tomes at once and _still_ couldn't find any real information, Izaya wore his customary smirk. It bothered Irma Pince, seeing this man in her library, reading through her precious books, all the while curling his lips up in that predatory fashion. His expression was far too sly to be described as a smile.

The only thing worse than Izaya's terrible grin was the quiet, bubbling laughter that escaped between his teeth every so often. It was both manic and grim, and it made the vulture-like woman want to grab her books away from his clutches. She settled, instead, on glaring at him intensely.

Unfortunately her disapproval only seemed to encourage his glee. Izaya's laughter increased in tempo as he stared at her books.

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After a lesson with the small fourth year class just like the previous one he had taught, it was time for Izaya's third years. It would probably seem to any other teacher that the third years would be the best class as they hadn't been taught any misinformation or got used to a vastly different teaching style than his own, however that was not how Izaya felt. He loved teaching the harder classes. It was much more interesting to see them try to adjust to the knowledge that was completely alien to them.

That was not to say that he _didn't_ enjoy teaching his third year class. He loved teaching his third year class just as much as the rest. This class had Hermione Granger, one of Harry Potter's best friends, and he fully planned on taking advantage of that. If the Weasley twins were loose canons, then Harry was a rogue warship shooting off at random directions. Though it would take some more time to get to him, Izaya was going to enjoy toying with the boy who lived.

"Hello~" Izaya called out to his students once they had all arrived, "Today we're going to go over muggle technology, and later on you'll learn how it works! Now, can anyone give me some technology they know of? Not you, Hermione, you've got an unfair advantage~"

Lisa Turpin raised her hand awkwardly. "They have, um, phones? To talk other muggles with."

"Very good!" Izaya crowed, red eyes gleaming, "Anyone else got something?"

"Telly … there are, I think you call them telly-vs?"said Roger.

Izaya laughed. "Not quite, they're called televisions, or TVs."

He went on to describe different muggle technologies for a very long ten minutes. Izaya was growing steadily bored of teaching his class, which was bad news. For his students, at least. A bored Izaya was even more needlessly destructive than his usual self, which was saying something.

"Hermione," he exclaimed suddenly, "tell us what your parents do!"

She ducked her head as the class turned to look at her. "They're dentists."

Izaya smiled. "Ah, you know how to brush and floss well then~ Tell everyone what dentists do—you'll know the most!"

"Well, they take care of teeth. If someone eats too much sugar without taking care of their teeth, they can get holes in their teeth, so mum and dad will fill the holes... And if you have squint teeth, they'll give you braces to straighten them, stuff like that." Hermione said, staring down at her desk.

The class looked quite horrified that muggles did this, other than Sue Li, who looked like she was trying to recall something.

Izaya smirked at the class. "Thank you, Hermione! Dental care is very important as most muggles don't have access to magic! Now, you guys have to write about how muggles cope with not having magic, and Hermione, I want you to write about how wizards cope with not having muggle science."

Hermione positively beamed at the way Izaya made sure to give her different work due to her own circumstances. Which meant he was doing the right thing to gain her trust over other teachers. It wouldn't do to have Hermione feel like he wasn't entirely trustworthy. If that was the case, then reaching Harry would be much harder. Harry was definitely the type to trust his friends over his teachers.

When Hermione had finished her work, Izaya had made sure to tell her that it was beyond his expectations. It _was_ true, however nothing would come from Izaya's mouth that didn't hide an ulterior motive.

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It was during lunch that Izaya caught wind of an … interesting rumour. One of the many that involved himself, but one of the few he was excited to see the fruition of. A true diamond in the rough. He'd heard it from fourth year Slytherins who had obviously forgotten to use magic to hide their words in the excitement of what was to come.

Izaya was happy to hear it. It wouldn't do for him to go soft during his time teaching, after all. Not to mention, he wanted to test his limitations.

Sixth year students should be at least a little challenging in a confrontation. Especially with his handicap of being wandless, although that would make them severely underestimate him. It evened itself out like that. He hoped that he might have to used his knife.

Humming to himself, Izaya skipped through the hallways. He was disgustingly happy with himself, and the portraits he passed were yelling at him for it. He disregarded them; they were unworthy of his notice, not even pawns worth moving. They weren't people anymore, nor were they monsters. They were just ants crawling beneath his feet, incapable of doing anything other than imitating humanity.

When he began cackling, the paintings began questioning his sanity. He refused to stop, and the paintings he passed stopped trying to make him.

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When Izaya had began walking to his rooms after dinner was when the action finally happened. He had long since noticed the failed attempt at stealth from the group of five following him, and started walking to the emptier wings of the school to draw them in.

Only once Izaya was satisfied with his location, and the Slytherins behind him were beginning to lose their bearings even after years at the castle, did anything happen.

"Well~" Izaya drawled, "does someone have something they want to say? Hmm?"

They were both confused and angered by his words. Not only had he noticed them, but he had had the audacity to act like he was their superior.

"How dare you speak like that to us, muggle scum!" Said a boy Izaya recognised to be Alistair Rigby, the apparent leader of the group.

Izaya smirked at him, his eyes gleaming threateningly in the light. "If I'm scum, then what does that make you?"

It was the right thing to say—by Izaya's standards, at least—as Rigby growled and pulled out his wand. "I'd watch my mouth if I was you. Maybe if you're good enough we won't cut off your tongue."

He and his posse laughed in a way that was meant to intimidate, but in reality did little more than spur on Izaya's words.

"Oh~? And tell me," Izaya's mouth stretched up further, leaving the territory of a smile far behind, "is that a threat or a promise?"

That was the last straw. Rigby brandished his wand and yelled "Expulso!"

A beam of blue light sped to Izaya, but he jumped out of the way with such ease that it left the five Slytherins wondering where the hell he'd learnt how to, and why it had been necessary. It was definitely _not_ something the average muggle would know how to do.

Izaya laughed. "Now, now, don't be so hasty~ Do you really want to use such harmful spells on a poor, defenceless man like myself?"

Of course, he was doing himself no favours riling up his attackers, so he was unsurprised to see two others bring out their wands. If memory served him right, they were Rowan Rothley and Tedd Croaker.

Soon enough, he was jumping, rolling, and running gleefully out of the way of spells that were meant to do serious damage. He even noticed an entrail expelling curse thrown into the fray. It was so amusing to see powerless people like these try to destroy a man like himself.

Unfortunately, it seemed the boys were starting to tire, and his exercise would be over too easily soon, so he decided it was time to put them in their place.

First he cartwheeled up to Rigby, because he'd been yammering on about stupid things for too long, and hit him hard enough in the back of the neck hard enough to knock him out for a while. Then, he took advantage of the boy he thought was Myron Shepherd's shock and gave him the same treatment. Finally, when an enraged Rothley and the only one he couldn't name ran at him, he dodged and let them take care of each other for him.

It was then, when Tedd Croaker was gaping at him in fear, that Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore came running towards him urgently.

"The paintings alerted us to the sixth years who were attacking you, Izaya." Dumbledore said, his voice grave.

Izaya nodded. "As I have told you before, I can handle attacks. I took care of Rigby and Shepherd here painlessly, however I dodged simultaneous attacks from Rothley and his friend that instead hit them, so I couldn't guarantee their safety. Croaker here, though, is fine, and will tell you exactly what they planned to do to me. Hmm, I believe it involved cutting my … tongue out, was it, Croaker?"

The boy in question fainted as Izaya's malicious red eyes probed him. He was not the first to do so, but it was always so fun for him to see people collapse from pure fear.

Dumbledore looked unsure of what to do after seeing how it had been handled, and, again, Izaya felt as though something was pushing at his mind. He focussed on calming techniques and keeping his thoughts blank as he stared into the uncharacteristically serious electric blue eyes of the headmaster.

"I assure you this will be treated appropriately." Dumbledore finally said, after far too much silence.

Snape levitated the boys, and began marching away, mouth curling in hatred, and McGonagall left with the headmaster, no doubt away to discuss how to talk about not assaulting teachers to students.

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The next day, that for Izaya was thankfully free but for one class, the halls were filled with even more gossip. He heard it even in the library, which was kept almost completely silent under the strict reign of Madam Pince, when he was studying Dullahan in some of the more obscure books.

What Izaya heard ranged from being mostly true, to being doctored to the point of outright absurdity, but it was all about how he had defeated a group—sometimes of four, sometimes of fifteen—of wizards trying to at the very least maim him, and he had used no magic at all to do it.

Being the subject of gossip was by no means a new experience for the man, however it was never normally so complimentary of him. How pleasing it was that his humans were trying to love him back. It was quite srange, existing with so few hateful glares pointed at him. Though, the Slytherin house seemed to be trying to make up for that as almost every single Slytherin he had passed glared his way.

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 **Okay, now that's done, the guys who attacked Izaya are all made up because I couldn't find anything on the HP wiki about would-be sixth years in POA, but everyone else is a real character who I've found on the wiki.**

 **So, I wrote most of this chapter in the past few days, and the writing style's probably quite different in some places, but how did you guys enjoy seeing Harry, and other people's thoughts? It was quite fun to write Madam Pince, she's so possessive of her books, and I can relate to that.**

 **Also, Maddie if you see this today it's your birthday right now in the UK, so happy birthday! This can be your present lmao**

 **If anyone sees a mistake, please tell me because that would be embarrassing.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: hey guys I'm so so sorry that I kinda just left this for 9 months! So much has happened since January, and my life's been kinda hectic the entire time. Some really good things have happened recently, and I finally got my drrr writing mojo back, so I wrote the end of the chapter today while it lasts lmao.**

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It wasn't until the second week of term that Izaya managed to find an opportunity to talk to Harry Potter. It was later on at night than any students should be out and roaming, but there he was.

Izaya had smiled one of his most deceitful grins. "Harry Potter," he said, "you're out a little late aren't you... Feeling alright? Want to talk?"

This had slightly bamboozled Harry. His teachers would normally be scolding him for being out after hours.

"You're not giving me into trouble?" Harry asked, confused enough to drop the sir he'd normally use.

Izaya just smiled at that. "Come to my office, and if you really want a detention we can discuss it there."

Harry supposed that Izaya must be as crazy as the rumours said. Hermione liked him, though, so he decided to trust the unusual professor.

As they walked together to Izaya's office, the informant couldn't help but feel he'd struck gold. Someone who could really surprise him. Someone who'd add an extra element of insanity to his deranged board game set that right now wasn't all too interesting.

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Reaching the teacher's office, Harry was reminded of modern offices from TV shows Dudley would watch. A young genius investigator wouldn't have looked out of place pacing the room or reading through files on the sleek desk.

Harry was pulled out his thoughts by Izaya clearing his throat. "Take a seat Harry. Don't be afraid to get comfy." he said from his seat on the black sofa.

The room was probably specially designed to be so muggle like, Harry thought. The décor was much nicer than Privet Drive, though, and it looked professional rather than stuffy and fake. Harry reckoned that that was because Izaya had a better idea of what was fashionable than his aunt did.

He sat down on the opposite end of the sofa from Izaya.

"So, what has been bogging you down?" Izaya asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

As soon as soon as Harry had opened his mouth to deny his words, Izaya interrupted him. "Don't tell me it's nothing. I can see it in your eyes."

It would have been pointless for Harry to give him nothing, so he spoke.

"Well, sir," he began, staring down at his tattered shoes, "you must have heard about Sirius Black"—Izaya nodded—"and how he wants to kill me … and, well, I was feeling restless because of that, I guess." He rubbed his head, further ruffling his messy hair.

Izaya nodded. "Hmm … well, I can't get rid of Black, but if you want I can teach you some self-defence. The muggle kind, obviously. It's something that he probably won't know, though, and it'd give you an advantage if he thought you were down after disarming you. How about that, Harry?"

As he spoke, Izaya had nodded lightly. It was a little body language trick he'd learnt years ago that made people more agreeable to his suggestions, while making him seem more honest and trustworthy. It didn't even appear to be necessary though, as Harry was staring up at him in shock, like he'd never expected a teacher to want to help him.

"Would—would that be okay, sir?" Harry gasped.

Izaya smiled. "No need for formalities, call me Izaya. How about we meet on weekends at three—pm not am, obviously—and I can teach you how to defend yourself without magic. Would you mind learning in my office?"

Harry nodded mutely.

"Now then, assuming you don't want to negotiate detentions, I'll escort you to your common room."

And with that, Izaya had successfully trapped Harry Potter in his web.

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The Thursday after Izaya had met Harry, Izaya spent either cackling with joy, or perusing the admittedly lacking resources Hogwarts had on Dullahan. Although the lack of reading material was hell to put up with, it was made better by seeing how infuriated Madame Pince got while he was intruding in her library. It was also amusing to watch her try to figure out what he was looking up. Clearly she, like Snape, had good senses and suspected him of something. Dumbledore too probably didn't trust him, but for whatever reason had wanted Izaya in his school.

Reading the atmosphere of the wizarding world, he was probably bait. Either for Sirius Black, or Voldemort himself. Dumbledore's game was definitely going to mess with his in the most interesting ways. Izaya couldn't wait to see how.

The second week of Hogwarts being in session ended up proving itself brilliant, because, buried underneath mountains of dusty books, Izaya found a small handwritten book that was entirely one woman's speculations on Dullahan.

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Izaya sat in his office with the chair spun to face away from the door. He was waiting for Harry to come in, and he was wearing his customary smirk. Harry was a wothwhile investment, Izaya was sure of that, and he would never let him fall through his clutches. After all, Izaya would never forgive himself if Dumbledore was the only one playing mindgames with Harry, and he never even got the opportunity to go against the headmaster in a psychological battle.

When he heard the door open, and Harry's nervous footsteps, Izaya spun his black leather chair around dramatically.

"Good afternoon, Harry," he grinned, "I hope you're prepared for a slight workout."

Harry laughed nervously. "A workout, sir?"

"Drop the sir, you're making me feel like an old man!" Izaya winked.

"Um ... okay."

Harry, Izaya noted, was still by the door. It seemed like it was a combination of nerves and a defence mechanism. Keeping an exit nearer to yourself than possible enemies was something lots of abused children did. That was unexpected, even by Izaya. If Harry Potter, Dumbledore's puppet, the Boy Who Lived, was being abused at home, he couldn't imagine how the world would react. This was something he'd definitely keep an eye on.

"So, um, Izaya, why've you got all those books on magical creatures?" the boy asked, abruptly stopping the silence Izaya had let go on.

At this, his red eyes positively lit up. "It's a special project of mine. I'm researching some very important things about Dullahan. Luckily, your library had one book all about them. It's not a widely discussed thing, the Dullahan, you know."

Harry looked confused. "Dullahan?"

"Ah, you'd know them as headless riders. Like Sleepy Hollow."

"They're real?!" Harry looked about as bewildered as Izaya had felt when he first laid eyes on the living head of Celty Sturluson.

Izaya nodded. "Yes. Now!" he clapped his hands abruptly, "Lets get started! How good are you at running?"

Harry gulped, remembering all the times he'd depended on his speed to stay away from Dudley and his friends. "I can run alright."

Izaya nodded. "Good. How about jumping?"

"Um, I can jump fairly high ...?" He was obviously befuddled by this line of questioning.

"Brilliant. Lets test how good you are. Jump over the table. Take a running leap."

Harry didn't move.

Izaya clucked his tongue impatiently. "What are you waiting for Harry? Jump from my table onto my desk. If you fall and hurt yourself, I'll take you to the hospital wing and tell them you hurt yourself falling down stairs and I found you."

With that, Harry took a few steps towards the expensive table, stopped, and looked at the professor. "How will this help me defend myself from Black? I don't think jumping will turn out to be a major weakness of his."

"Well, Harry," Izaya said, "how do you think I dodged the spells those sixth years sent my way?"

Hearing confirmation that the legendary confrontation between Izaya and the sixth years was real made Harry's eyes blow wide open. He looked at Izaya with a shocked new respect.

He smiled at this. "The technique I use is called parkour. It gives you an … _amazing_ advantage over the other people."

After telling Harry this, he was much less reluctant to try jumping on Izaya's office furniture. When Harry tried it, he found he was only having a little difficulty jumping high and far enough. Every time he jumped Izaya made Harry start a little bit closer to the desk. Eventually he fell, but he was fine.

"Well done," Izaya had said to Harry before sending him away.

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The book on Dullahan was fascinating, to put it lightly. It was written by a woman who had seen one and become obsessed with it. Over the years, she'd slowly gone insane as it haunted her thoughts, but she'd wrote even as her mind abandoned her. It was a feat that was Shinra-worthy, and the thought of his friend—probably his only real friend—left a smile on his face. Not that he'd ever admit it.

He decided to write to his friend, of course in Japanese, and also in code. Just in case anyone wanted to read his messages. Shinra wouldn't want Celty to realise that he knew where her head was.

Izaya wished he could see the look on his Shinra's face as he got an _owl_ delivering him mail, but unfortunately that would be impossible.

He sighed. Being away from Ikebukuro for so long was sad. He couldn't see what was going on with Mikado, he couldn't watch Celty try to find her head while her admirer hid it, couldn't stir things up with Shiki and the Awakasu-Kai.

"What's wrong, Professor—"

"—feeling down?"

The Weasley twins. Izaya smirked.

"I was, but seeing you two cheers me up~!"

When Fred and George smirked at each other, Izaya knew he'd have them doing whatever he said in no time. There was always _someone_ to manipulate in Hogwarts.

His eyes widened. "You two know your way around the castle well, don't you?"

Fred eyed George knowingly. So, they were in on a secret, then.

"You could say that." said George.

"Hmm? Well, do you know any large rooms I could use for training. Exercise, running, that kind of thing?"

"Well, there is one room.."

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"Professor, where are we going?"

Izaya sighed playfully. "My ego can't take this! I'm too young to be called that!"

Harry laughed awkwardly.

"Ahem. Well~ we're going to a very special room that you can train in. It has everything you need."

That didn't sound right to Harry. "Uhm, Izaya, how did you get a room for training me to do parkour?" he mumbled.

"Ahahahaha! Magic!"

They passed a tapestry of someone teaching trolls ballet, before turning back and walking down the same corridor twice more.

Izaya was walking confidently, but quietly, while Harry was slowly traipsing behind him. He was slightly worried for the professor's sanity. Suddenly a great door appeared before them.

"What?!"

"Come inside, Harry. This is your classroom."

The room—well, it wasn't actually a room, it looked like part of a city—was huge. There were massive skyscrapers, lots of alleys, and big signs written in Japanese. It was unnervingly empty. The streets were dirty in an unmistakably human way, but other than Harry and Izaya, it was completely devoid of life.

"Where are we, Izaya?" Harry asked him, so shocked that he was barely withdrawn.

The informant smirked. "We're still in Hogwarts, Harry, but this is Ikebukuro, Tokyo. Not the real deal, otherwise it'd be much more … busy, but this is how it looks."

Harry frowned. "Ike-buukuro?"

"Almost." Izaya ruffled his hair. "I learnt parkour here, and I mastered it in high school. Ah, those were the days... I can remember running down these streets when I was supposed to be in class like it was yesterday."

He doesn't actually feel that nostalgic towards his home town at all, but Harry doesn't need to know that. It wouldn't fit in with the image he was projecting at all.

Izaya walked through a maze of streets, towards Raira. "When I was a teenager I was chased by bullies a lot. I had to utilise my speed and stamina so I wouldn't get hurt."

Lies, obviously, but Harry, jogging behind so he could keep up with him, had a face like Izaya had told him about his own childhood. Interesting.

"My—my cousin chases me sometimes. It's not so bad now we know I'm a wizard, but when I was younger him and his friends would beat me up if I couldn't get away. Once I jumped and ended up on the school roof."

Although he'd said it with barely a quiver in his voice, Harry's cheeks were flushed, and he steadfastly avoided eye contact. Well, more so than usual.

"I think," Izaya said, "we have a lot in common with our pasts."

They were silent for a little while after that, but Harry looked at Izaya with trust in his eyes. It was almost disturbingly easy to gain his trust after making it sound like he'd been bullied too.

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"Are we—done—now?" Harry panted, leaning on his legs while he caught his breath.

He considered saying no just to see the look on Harry's face, but decided against it. He didn't want to break Harry's tentative faith in him so soon, after all.

"Yes. I think you need to build up your stamina though~ Every morning, I want you to run as many laps around the Great Lake as you can before you go to your classes! You'll have to get up early, but there will be countless benefits." Izaya's voice dropped menacingly as he spoke. "Now! You should hit the showers! Don't forget to eat before you run!"

Izaya led Harry out of the Room of Requirement, before he left to go to his office.

Waiting for him was a _very_ unexpected surprise.

"Hello, Mr. Malfoy~ How may I help you?" he smirked.

Draco stood and puffed out his chest. "My father won't stand for muggles teaching in Hogwarts."

"Oh?"

He looked slightly lost at Izaya's retort. "My father won't stand for this."

Izaya laughed. "What's he going to do me?"

His reaction puzzled Draco even more. He stormed out of Izaya's office, muttering under his breath. It was funny seeing the boy so off-put by his behaviour, but he knew that if he wanted to bring Draco into a more interesting position, beyond a pawn, he'd have to fix his attitude. It'd be hilarious too see a blood purist's child side with him, a muggle, too. The sort of poetic justice one rarely gets to witness.

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"Why on Earth did you think confronting Orihara was a good idea, Draco?"

Draco sighed. "I wanted to scare him. He deserves it."

Pinching his nose at the oncoming headache, Snape shook his head. "You're lucky I won't go to your father about this. If you make many more blunders, however, you will force my hand."

There are a few beats of silence before Draco explodes. "He had it coming, okay? He beat up _my_ housemates—they're your students too!"

"Silence!" Snape roars. "I do not trust Orihara, and the fact that he was able to beat up sixth years, unarmed, with no magic is a testament to his power! I read the medical reports and he didn't even use a magical object to do that! Orihara is not. To be. Taken. Lightly. Do you understand?"

Draco nods, shamefaced. "Please don't tell my father." he whispers.

At those words, Snape softens imperceptibly. He understands what it feels like to be frightened of the tiniest slip-up in front of a parent. But he also knows there's a big difference between his father and Malfoy's. For one, despite every single one of his parental failures, Lucius Malfoy loves his son. More than anything, a good life for Draco is what he wants. Unfortunately, Lucius has a lot of parental failures, the biggest being that he wants his son to have a good future so much that he doesn't realise the bad present he's given Draco.

Snape lifts his head up. "You're dismissed now, Draco. Do not engage with Orihara again."

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 **AN: Thanks for reading! I wasn't entirely happy with this chapter, but I'd rather give you something than stress over it for ages. I wouldn't have been able to finish this chapter without all of your amazing comments, either! I try to respond to them all over PMs, but that's not always possible and I do miss some people out by accident. A lot of you have been asking about Shizuo, and I'm sorry to say, but he will probably not turn up. There's just no reason for him to go to rural Scotland or know about magic. Sorry. But! There will be (possible) appearances from Shinra and Celty later on!**

 **If you like my writing and you like superheroes, please check out my other story, Peter Parker. It's about Peter being ftm transgender, with eventual spideypool, and also my first shipping fic. Anyway, that's enough self promotion for today lmao.**

 **Please review if you enjoyed it!**


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